The letter was a formal notice of intent to place a lien on my property for delinquent HOA fees and fines totaling $1,475.68, a figure that included their own exorbitant legal charges. They were trying to cloud my title, to attach a legal anchor to my home that would make it impossible to sell or refinance until the debt was paid. It was a classic schoolyard bully tactic. If you can't win the argument, just take the other kids lunch money.
I scanned it and emailed it to Frank with the subject line, "Incoming." His reply was almost instant. "Beautiful. This is a gift.
They've just formally documented their illegal collection attempt. By filing this, knowing the underlying fines are based on a demand to commit a crime, their lawyer may have just violated bar association ethics. We'll deal with this. Don't respond.
Wait for her next move. It'll be a bigger mistake." Frank was right again. The bigger mistake arrived 3 days later in the form of a large mud-splattered flatbed truck.
It rumbled down our quiet street and pulled to a stop directly in front of my house. On the side of the truck, the logo read ACME Landscaping and Excavation. Two men in dusty work shirts hopped out and began unstrapping a small front end loader, a Bobcat, from the flatbed. I had been waiting for this.
I had my phone in my pocket, already set to record video. I walked calmly down my driveway to meet them. The lead guy, a burly man with a sunburn neck and a clipboard, intercepted me at the property line. "Mr. Caldwell?" he asked, not making eye contact.
"Yeah, that's me." "We're here on behalf of the Harmony Creek HOA," he mumbled, reading from his work order. "Job is to, uh, fill in a pond back of the property."
He pointed vaguely towards my house. I stood my ground, right on the edge of my lawn. "Let me save you some time," I said, my voice friendly but firm. "First, you're not setting one tire of that machine on my property.